Through it All
by moviegeek03
Summary: Stress and Dean's attitude are quickly about to do Sam in...Not to mention the nasty chest cold that won't go away...Comment fic for KlutzyGirl33 set after Dark Side of the Moon in Season 5


A/N: This is another prompt for a LiveJournal comment meme. The prompt is by KlutzyGirl on LJ, whose name on here I believe is KlutzyGirl33 :) Prompt can be found at the bottom of the fic :)

Through it All

It was supposed to be you and me….remember?

_ This your idea of heaven, bailing on your family?_

_ Always running away Sammy…_

_ Worthless now…No use to me…_

_ Can't fix this…._

_ You're always running Sam…_

_ Sam….._

"Sam!"

Sam jerked awake from the nightmare that had plagued him for the better part of the drive to Bobby's place. It was darker than when Sam had first drifted off to sleep, but there was still enough light to illuminate Sam's pale and sweaty complexion.

He finally, but cautiously glanced back at his big brother. Dean was staring at Sam like he had somehow grown another head while conked out in the passenger seat. "Yeah?" Sam's hoarse voice asked.

"Something wrong with you?" Dean didn't let any concern leak into his words. He kept the same hard edge that had remained since leaving the bloody, hole ridden motel behind days ago. The hurt and pain that had marred Dean's face and caused him to throw away his amulet still flickered in his eyes every time he looked at Sam.

And Sam had noticed every single time….

"No," Sam's voice rasped out, "I'm fine." Sam knew he sounded anything but fine, but Dean didn't appear to take any notice. Instead he turned his gaze back to the road.

Sam sighed and leaned his aching head back against the window. He stifled a few coughs that ached to escape from his lips. His eyes closed, but he fought sleep for a while, knowing Dean's words and actions would chase him in his dreams.

His fingers unconsciously tightened around the small horned pendant hiding in his jacket pocket before finally drifting off into a restless sleep.

SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN

Dean turned into Singer Salvage, not even trying to miss the bumps along the drive. The jerking motion of the bumps soon woke Sam from his brief rest in the passenger seat. He looked around confused; a fine sheen of sweat coated his pale face and bloodshot eyes.

A pang of guilt stabbed through Dean at the poor sight of his brother. He quickly tried to tap down the guilt as he cut off the ignition and opened his door. "We're here, Sam." The comment was choppy and refrained from allowing any emotions to filter into his voice.

Sam sluggishly nodded and moved out of the car to follow Dean.

Dean barely noticed his baby brother's painfully slow movement or his whimpering coughs as he crept up to the porch. Using the key Bobby had given him after the Meg incident, Dean unlocked the front door to enter the house.

The sound of a shotgun cocking greeted the boys as they stepped through a the doorway, along with a very pissed off looking Bobby.

"Hey!" Dean quickly called.

"Don't ya idgits know how to pick up a damn phone, huh?" Bobby lowered the gun and set it aside. "You two told me ya weren't gonna be her 'til tomorrow night!"

"Sorry Bobby," Sam mumbled.

"Decided to drive straight through," Dean simply stated. Bobby still glared at the boys, immediately knowing something was off with both of them. Dean shook off the look and headed towards the back guest room. "I'm gonna go sleep."

Sam looked like he was about to go after Dean, but instead he sank wearily down into the old couch.

"You wanna tell me what's goin' on with you two?" Bobby maneuvered his wheelchair over to the obviously exhausted and sick Sam.

"He's just….Ever since we, you know, came back he's…"

"Still nursin' his bruised ego?"

"Bobby," Sam tried to argue back, but a coughing fit stole away any argument.

As the fit slowly died down, Sam noticed a very concerned Bobby directly in front of him with a glass of water. "How long ya been nursing the cold of yours, Sam?"

Sam shrugged. "I'm fine." The words sputtered out as more coughs racked his exhausted frame.

"Like hell ya are."

Sam tiredly ran his hand through his long hair. "Started feeling like crap after we left the motel. Wasn't feeling too hot before our little run in with Walt and Roy. Then everything with the angels and God…" Sam sighed. "I'll be fine. It's just a cold or something. Haven't taken all that great of care of myself with Dean being….well…."

"Look, just go and get some sleep."

Sam shook his head no and stretched out more on the couch. "He doesn't want me around right now. I'm fine here."

Bobby wanted to drag the boy to the bedroom, but Sam drifted off to sleep as soon as his head hit the lumpy pillows.

SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN

Dean woke roughly from yet another nightmare. The images of yellow eyes tarnishing his beautiful mother and Sam with black eyes plagued his tired brain. He pushed off of the bed and made his way toward the hallway, intent on getting a glass of water before trying to get back to sleep.

However the sound of gagging and hacking from the bathroom across from his bedroom stopped him dead in his tracks. Dean knew Bobby wouldn't be all the way down here, what with having a bathroom connecting to his bedroom and all. So that just left one person…

"Sam," Dean gently said and knocked on the cracked bathroom door.

More coughing and gagging sounds met Dean's ears. These were soon followed by a few gasping sounds and a breathless, inaudible reply from his brother.

Dean sighed and pushed open the slit door to get to his hurting brother. '_How did I not notice? Oh…yeah…damn it.' _

Sam stood hunched over the sink, sweaty and pale, gasping for breath around some nasty gunk in his lungs…some of which littered the sink. As soon as Dean stepped into the room, Sam looked up at his brother, fully expected Dean to start yelling. Sam opened his mouth to apologize, but wet hacks soon stole his words and breath.

"Easy buddy," Dean soothed. He made quick work of the space that separated him from Sam. He started rubbing soothing circles across Sam's shaking back as his baby brother's lungs tried to expel whatever was building up in them.

After a few moments Sam started to relax, his breathes evening back out under Dean's hand. Dean reached up and turned the water on to wash away the gunk and wet a washcloth for his brother. Dean let the water continue to run while he placed the cool cloth across the back of Sam's fevered neck.

"Thanks," Sam rasped.

Dean nodded his head, leaving his hand at the back of Sam's neck. "How long you been sick?"

"Not sick," Sam sighed. "Just a cold…" His body betrayed his words as more coughs wracked his frame. After he managed to catch his breath, Sam continued to talk. "It just moved into my chest, that's all. I'll be fine. I'll get some more sleep then I can get back to researching so we can figure out where we need to go from here." Sam practically panted as he finished.

"Woah, Sam, I don't think you're gonna be doing much of anything, not like this."

"No, Dean," Sam nearly pleaded. "I'm fine. I've gotta find a way to end all of this. Need to keep researching. Have to finish what I started." The force of the coughs that started to overtake Sam this time forced him to collapse down onto the bathroom floor.

Dean barely caught his brother in his descent. He gently guided Sam down onto the floor and moved so that he was face to face with his brother. "Listen, you aren't doing a damn thing about that right now."

"I'm sor…"

"And so am I, Sammy."

"What?" Sam looked completely confused up at his brother.

"I'm sorry I didn't see how crappy you were feeling and what all this was doin' to you. So, you're gonna take it easy for a few days before this 'cold' of yours turns into full blown pneumonia."

"But Dean, I can't just sit here. I need to…"

"I know you do. But it can wait a few days. Now," Dean said as he moved to brace his brother, "let's get you into bed. I'll get ya some meds tomorrow."

Sam allowed Dean to guide him off from the floor and out of the bathroom, too tired to put up a fight. But as soon as Sam realized Dean was guiding him towards their bedroom, Sam started pushing back against Dean's hold. "Need my stuff from the couch. My jacket…"Sam weakly protested.

"Ok, I'll bring it to you alright? Just let me get ya into the bed first." That answer seemed to suffice as Dean guided a slightly feverish Sam down onto the bed. He threw the covers over Sam and rushed out to grab Sam's jacket and some Tylenol. Dean seriously couldn't understand why the jacket was that important, but for some reason it seemed critical to Sam's fever addled brain.

Sam was already curled up in the bed, but he immediately perked up at the sight of Dean with his jacket. Sam quickly reached up for it and pulled it down onto the other side of the bed. Something fell from one of the pockets and clanked against the floor. Sam was too slow, and Dean quickly reached the object first.

His fingers closed around the familiar horned pendant and leather cord. And just like that, everything came crashing down onto him…the grief, the frustration, the pain, the guilt…

"Sammy?"

Sam's eyes flickered from the pendant back up to Dean's face. "I'm sorry," Sam mumbled. "I couldn't…it just felt like I was giving up if I left it there. And I can't. Not after everything. And I'm sorry."

Dean still couldn't take his gaze off his pendant. His fingers roamed over the familiar ridges and slid around the leather cord. He finally looked up at Sam's distraught and fearful face. "You picked it up?" Dean choked around the emotion building up in his throat.

Sam mistook it for anger and quickly started to apologize. "I know, you didn't want it, but…"

"Thanks Sammy," Dean interrupted. He maneuvered his necklace over his head, smiling at the welcomed weight against his chest. Dean looked as emotional as that Christmas day so many years ago.

Sam's tense frame slowly relaxed at the sight of Dean wearing the necklace once again. A smile graced Sam's face before he burrowed further into the bed to drift off to sleep.

Dean smiled a little before pushing a few strands of sweat soaked hair out of Sam's face. He set the Tylenol out so that Sam could take some when he woke. He then lay out on his own bed, next to Sam's. His hand rested once again on the pendant. Angels, demons…Lucifer and God? Yeah, they could get through it all…

Prompt by KlutzyGirl: After "Dark Side Of The Moon", Sam comes down with a really bad cold because of all the stress piling up from the past year or so. Dean takes care of him. Would be nice if the amulet was given back too!


End file.
